


United We Stand

by Dutchfish



Series: Barnabros [1]
Category: Midsomer Murders - All Media Types
Genre: Acknowledgement that Midsomer is fucking weird, Author has never been drunk in their life, Blood Wedding (episode), Breaking and Entering, Canon Divergence, Drunkenness, Forcibly if needed, Gen, Humor, Roadtrip, The others will cure him, Title sound way too serious for this fic, Troy can't drive, Troy is still a homophobe, Will divert more and more from canon as the series gets along, drunk plans, no one has common sense, of sorts, well intentioned stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22159369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dutchfish/pseuds/Dutchfish
Summary: We know both Troy and Jones were present at Cully's wedding, but what about Scott? What would it be like if three Detective Sergeants got together?
Relationships: Cully Barnaby/Simon Dixon, Sally Fielding/Ben Jones
Series: Barnabros [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595005
Comments: 7
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'ed by @eye-of-terrific (tumblr)

Ben sighed, rolling his shoulders as the wedding ceremony started. Weddings were always stressful, but working on an active murder case during the days leading up to it didn’t help. Ben hadn’t even been that involved with the preparations, he was only the usher… and Cully’s confidant. With what horrors he had heard about the catering and the drama surrounding the honeymoon, he was glad that he wasn’t in the middle of it. That could wait till his own wedding, if that was ever going to happen. Ben looked over to Sally. At least he didn’t seem to have a problem finding dates; however, keeping them around was another thing altogether. He mentally shook himself to clear his mind. This was the time to celebrate Simon and Cully’s happy future, not to mull about his own slow-going love life. He better pay attention, Cully wouldn’t react kindly if he missed anything because he was thinking too much.

* * *

After the ceremony, Gavin made it his mission to catch Jones. He hadn’t seen the man in years, probably the longest time since they had first met. Yet, Jones had still managed to say ‘nice to meet you’ like every other time they saw each other again in a ‘new capacity’. It annoyed Gavin to no end, because the longer it went on, the more confusing Jones’ habit became. Really, when he did it for the first time, Gavin had just assumed the other had forgotten that Gavin had tutored him. Though Gavin didn’t like the thought that he was so forgettable to Jones, it made some sense. After all, Jones was attending another school and they were both playing for their schools’ cricket teams. Very different setting than a classroom, so one could be excused for not making the connection. However, Jones had insisted that he did, but that they had never met as members of opposing teams. Sounds like a cover for an embarrassed kid (really, Jones had been the youngest by two years, covering embarrassment could be excused), but then why hadn’t Jones stopped after more than a decade? The fact that Gavin couldn’t be sure if Jones was just petty or if he was serious continued to get under his skin. It got under his skin so much he had forgotten to look for the man and had instead been glaring at a wall. He resumed his search before people would start to think he was unhappy about the wedding or something. Gavin easily spotted the Barnabys (and Dixons), Cully’s white dress was a dead giveaway, but the usher seemed more elusive.

“Looking for someone?”

Of course, he was right behind him, how could Gavin expect any different? With only a small heart attack and a quick turn, Gavin ended up facing Jones.

“Yes, you.” Gavin grinned, Jones might get under his skin, but this, along with his general oddness, ensured that he remained on Gavin’s radar. This meant that Gavin knew Jones was a massive gossip and had been able to utilise this back when he still worked in Midsomer. Right now, it meant that Gavin knew exactly who to ask about the latest Barnaby related shenanigans. There was also another thing he needed to confirm.

“So, Cully told me that someone called Jones became Sergeant after I left. Seeing that you’re the usher, am I correct in assuming that _you_ are Detective Sergeant Jones?” Jones nodded.

“Sure are, there was a guy called Scott between us two though.” Gavin knew this, of course; Cully had told him about the reluctant city boy.

“Still, congratulations.” This got a grin from Jones, why should it not?

“Thanks, Troy.” Jones eyes narrowed. “But that’s not the only reason why you went looking for me, was it? Not just popping by to say hi to your replacement’s replacement.”

“Of course not, don’t be daft. You need to tell me about how Barnaby has been doing. Cully keeps me informed, but I know there is a lot that goes on at the job that the female Barnabys don’t know about. The old man needs someone to keep an eye on him.” This got a snort from Jones. Clearly, the man had had this job long enough to know exactly what Gavin meant. Not that that was a very long time, though; Barnaby was not one to hide his more peculiar methods of investigation.

“What do you want to know? Quite a lot has happened since you got promoted away.” Why did Jones have to phrase it like that? “I could talk for days about just things that happened while Scott was in town, never mind the stories from my own time as his lackey.”

“You could start with telling me why he was getting driven home in a cop car, rushing to be on time… well, not as late, for his daughter’s wedding.”

“How did you know about that?” Jones looked a little confused, Gavin guessed he had been too busy being usher to notice Gavin arriving in said cop car.

“They drove me off the road and I ended up getting a lift from them.” Jones’ look of suspicion felt undeserved. Gavin knew that he wasn’t the best driver, but surely Jones would not immediately assume he was at fault?

“So, you want to know about the murder case we solved less than-” Jones looked at his watch “- two hours ago?”

“I didn’t ask what the cop car was about at the time, but almost being late to his daughter’s wedding because he needed to apprehend a murderer seems almost to be expected with Barnaby.” This got another snort from Jones.

“Yeah, we only had one car and I needed to be here earlier than him.” Gavin’s eyes widened as Jones told him the abreviated version of the who how and why of the latest murder case.

“Sound like a typical Midsomer mystery.” He sighed and shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe the looks I get when I try to talk about past cases in Middlesbrough. They just refuse to believe me until I pull up the records.” Jones made a face which seemed to be stuck somewhere between amusement and pity.

“I’ve stopped mentioning them as much since I felt like they were starting to treat me like some mythical creature who came from a far and distant magical land.” Gavin was glad to see that amusement was now the winning emotion on Jones’ face, which had been his intention. Gavin may act as if he was upset about his reputation, but he actually quite enjoyed the element of chaos it brought and the fear and trepidation in the eyes of his colleagues whenever he uttered the words ‘that reminds me of this case where’. Perhaps this was why Jones never made any effort to come across as less weird than he was. The amusement. Either that, or Jones honestly had no idea everyone else thought he was odd.

“Not that I completely lost the image, of course; I don’t think I will ever get them to stop calling me the station cryptid behind my back.” He shook his head and looked the other man dead in the eyes.

“Take this piece of advice from me, when you land yourself a job outside of Midsomer, keep from mentioning the more bizarre cases and details.” Or handpick the weirdest ones if you want people to build you a shrine. They hadn’t built Gavin a shrine in Middlesbrough, but Jones’ natural otherness combined with the might of Midsomer madness, the younger man might pull it off if he tried.

“Like getting attacked with a mace by the brother of the actual murderer?” Gavin looked to his left at the unfamiliar, female, voice. The woman it belonged to was pretty, and completely unknown to Gavin.

“Actually, that would be one of the more cool than odd things that I think he could get away with mentioning.” He grinned and held out his hand.

“The name is Gavin Troy, I had this man’s job before him.” She introduced herself as Sally Fielding. A quick look at Jones confirmed that she was one of the people involved in the mace case (ha, that rhymed, and as long as it rhymed Gavin didn’t care that the mace didn’t really play a major role in most of the investigation). He thought it a bit odd to ask someone to accompany you to a wedding as what was quite possibly their first date, but he wasn’t going to question Jones about it, it wasn’t his life (which was sadly very empty of any romance at the moment). They said their goodbyes and Gavin left Jones to his date as he tried to see if he could catch another familiar face (and a lift to the next venue, perhaps he should’ve asked Jones before they separated). Maybe Bullard would have a spot free for him.

* * *

Ben laughed and waved at Sally as she made her way to the bathroom. The reception party was well underway and Ben was having a great time. He waved away an offer for another drink. He was pretty sure he already should no longer drive home once the party was over and he didn’t think Cully would appreciate it if he became so sloshed that he would go play human jukebox or cause a scene in some other capacity. Ben also knew that getting very drunk was a bad idea with his job, especially in an area like Midsomer where everyone would know about it in no time. He needed to keep some respect, and passing out drunk in the middle of the road was a sure way to lose it. It had been hard enough to gain it when some people still remembered that time he cycled into a street light back when he was 13. He stared into the distance for a moment, he felt like he forgot something important in his train of thought. Oh, yeah, Sally might also not appreciate him getting pissed enough to puke all over her (very) nice dress.

A tap on his shoulder caused him to turn around and a smile split his face when he saw whose hand it was.

“Cully, beautiful bride Cully, how can I be of service?”

“Gavin here,” She shook the arm she was holding. Ben had previously assumed that the man next to her was her husband, but now he could see it was the one and only DI Gavin Troy.

“Hi!” Only right to greet him, no?

“Hi…”

“So, Gavin here hasn’t danced with anyone yet.” This confused Ben, Troy wasn’t a bad looking guy and he was friendly, there had to be some single girl that was interested in dancing with him. Wasn’t that the thing with weddings? That no one wanted to be on their lonesome? A silence stretched before Ben noticed she was waiting for him to respond.

“Oh no?” He tried to sound empathetic, really, Ben wanted Troy to have fun, but he was still confused as to why Cully brought this to him.

“I thought you could help.” Cully smiled. Had Ben been more focused, he would have been more suspicious of the mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“What do you expect me to do about it?” He looked around, maybe he could find someone looking vaguely interested in dancing. Not that Ben could see a lot, it was pretty dark.

“Well, I recall you being a very good dancer and willing to help people out who don’t have a date.”

“You still miffed about that?” Ok, it had been a little rude of him to go dance with that girl when Cully had just gone to get them both drinks, but she had been so shy and polite that Ben hadn’t been able to say no.

“Doesn’t matter, it’s my wedding so you have to do as I say.” Perfect logic, Ben wholly agreed. So he shrugged and turned to Troy, who seemed a lot less comfortable with the arrangement. Perhaps because they’re both men. Which was when Ben remembered Troy was pretty homophobic. Oh boy, this was going to be interesting. Well, Cully had demanded it, so Ben wasn’t going to pay too much mind to that.

“You heard her, to the dancefloor with you.” Ben took Troy’s arm from Cully and pulled him to said dancefloor. They danced for a while, well, more like Ben trying to make Troy dance while Troy tried to escape without being too rude. Ben was actually pleasantly surprised that Troy had yet to make some casual homophobic comment, so even if he refused to dance, he still counted it as a win. Quiet discomfort was better than vocalised assholery. Eventually Troy won and they moved back to the fringes of the dancefloor. Actually, they moved all the way to the chairs where the old folk had been sitting previously (Ben guessed they had gone home by now as it was getting pretty late, he was also guessing that Cully and Simon had gone as he didn’t see them anywhere either). After a minute, Troy finally broke their silence (there was music so Ben couldn’t really think of it as _the_ silence).

“You know what?”

“No.” Ben had yet to learn how to read minds, so he didn’t really know what Troy was on about.

“It’s just wrong like this.”

“Like what?” Oh, no, had Ben been to quick to count his win with the absence of the homophobic commentary?

“We’re incomplete!”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re on about.” It wasn’t what he had feared it to be, but that just left him with less of an idea what Troy’s, probably drunk, mind was thinking of.

“There are only the two of us!”

“Should there be more? There are plenty of other people around?”

“Yes! But not like that. We’re missing that Scott man. Why isn’t he here? From what I heard from Cully she got along quite well with him.” Ben shrugged, Scott had been a city guy and barely interacted with PCs.

“It’s just wrong.”

“Yes… We should find him… Make us complete.”

Both their faces turned thoughtful as they started planning their completion operation.


	2. Chapter 2

Gavin was standing in front of a vaguely familiar door. He had been here a grand total of one time. To be completely honest, he had only been able to find the place because it was the address Cully and Simon had given to send wedding presents to. The two recently married lovebirds were, as far as Gavin knew, not at home at the moment. Not because they were on honeymoon, but because Cully was doing rehearsals and Simon was somewhere in Germany. Normally one would not go to someone’s house when they knew the owners wouldn’t be present, but for what Gavin was about to do it was more practical that they weren’t. He was going to break in. 

Realising that standing in front of someone’s house while not doing anything would garner him odd looks after a while, he started to move. First he checked above the door frame, then underneath the flower pots next to the door, under the doormat. Finally he grabbed a little flashlight and started shining it in dark corners to see if he could make a spare-key glint. He really hoped Cully and Simon kept a spare key somewhere outside, he really didn’t want to force the lock. A faint glint came from a crack between two bricks. Hopefully this was the key and not something else. Gavin had learnt that a lot of things could be the source of such a glint. From one of his pockets he retrieved a magnet and if he paused to think about it, he would probably be a little concerned about why he was so experienced with these kind of things (and then promptly blame it on Barnaby). Luck was on his side as the magnet retrieved a key from the crack. Gavin quickly straightened out and looked around to see if anyone was giving him odd looks. No one was staring at him from behind the blinds as far as he could see. With a grin on his face he used the key to open the door and let himself in. 

From his singular previous visit he knew that the house also had a digital alarm that had to be turned off. He quickly made his way to the place where he had seen it on the wall. Perhaps they hadn’t turned it on as they left. A look at the thing proved him that this was not the case. Looking at the numbers he hoped he could figure out what the code was before the security company was alerted. Though Cully and Simon hadn’t been living together in the house for very long , some wear had already occurred. He quickly ruled out the number being a year, due to the lack of 20 or 19. The grin that had disappeared when he saw that the alarm was turned on, reappeared as he realised that the code was Tom and Joyce’s wedding day. Significant enough for Cully (and Simon) to remember it, but not something a random burglar would easily guess. Gavin was not a random burglar (nor a specific one) and knew the significance of the date. He put in the code and successfully turned the alarm off. As he made his way further into the house, he made a mental note to turn the alarm back on when he left. It would probably be suspicious if Cully or Simon came back and found the alarm deactivated.

All that was left to do was find the wedding present that Scott (hopefully) sent. The plan Jones and Gavin had come up with was to use the return address on the package to figure out where Scott lived. While Gavin was out here, humming mission impossible, to find Scott’s home address, Jones would be nipping into personnel files to figure out which station Scott got transferred to. Gavin hoped that he had come soon enough after the wedding that the present was either not yet opened or that the wrappings hadn’t been thrown out of the house yet. Gavin would dumpster dive if he needed to do it to find the return address, but he would like to avoid that scenario. In the living room he found what looked to be a couple of unopened presents and underneath the coffee table was a black blob that was likely a trash bag for the wrappings. 

“Yessssssss.”

With great enthusiasm, but also care, he started to shift through the presents. He hoped that Scott’s name would be on it (first name was Dan, information provided by Jones). Otherwise he would have to wait for Jones’ call with info on where the man was transferred to so that he could look for addresses in the general area of the station. Not long after he started his phone went off, caller ID identified the person on the other line as Jones so Gavin answered.

“You found it?”

_“Yeah, turns out it’s surprisingly difficult to look up personnel files without your boss finding out.”_

During their planning at the wedding reception, Gavin and Jones had decided that the Barnabys were to be kept in the dark about their search for Scott. This is why they hadn’t just asked Cully for Scott’s contact information. Neither of them really remembered why they had decided that it was to be kept secret, but they hadn’t questioned it once sober.

“So? Where did he transfer to?”

_“Seems like he has gone back to London.”_

“Are you whispering?”

 _“Yes, I don’t want to be overheard. Gossip here is horrible, as you should remember. Who knows what they’ll make of my half of the conversation.”_ Gavin also vividly remembered Jones being one of the main gossipers.

“You’re also making weird noises.”

“ _If you really want to know, I’m eating lunch. I needed an excuse to get away from Barnaby and I am not skipping food._ ” Jones was horrible when hangry, so Gavin agreed that that was best for everyone. “ _Now stop interrupting me so that I can finish this and can continue to pretend like I am not part of a weird conspiracy to stalk a former coworker._ ”

Gavin kept himself from saying that stalking was not a nice word and that they were more overly enthusiastic (and less than legal) about finding someone.

* * *

Ben turned his face to the sun as he stood outside on the pavement. It was a surprisingly nice day and Ben didn’t have to work this weekend. The usual Midsomer bad luck hadn’t kicked in and called him in for work anyhow. No big active cases stopping him. He had already touched wood to not cause something to mess up this nice status quo. Better not invoke the malicious Midsomer magics by assuming everything would remain quiet.

“Hey there, Ben.”

He opened his eyes to see Sally standing about a foot away from him. He was pretty surprised to see her. For one Ben did not recall agreeing to meet her today (never make double plans) and he also could not recall when he told her where he lived. Perhaps it had been just a coincidence and she was on her way to meet someone who lived nearby. Ben kissed her cheek as a greeting.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I came by at the station as I was in the neighborhood and they told me you had the weekend off?” Ben cringed internally. Really, they should know better than to give personal info without permission. They were the police, they should know that the world isn’t innocent and that stalkers exist. Outwardly he smiled, because it was nice of her to pop by.

“Yep! If my phone goes off and it’s someone from work I won't be responding; I’m not getting called in on a day off again.” He was very willing to chuck his phone out the window if they wouldn’t accept his refusal to answer. The phone was old and he needed a new one anyhow.

“Oh, that’s great news! You should’ve told me. Doesn’t matter though, I know this place we could go to-” Ben’s smile became more and more awkward as she continued to talk. Her plans were brilliant, and had it been any other weekend he would be ecstatic.

“Uhm…”

“What?”

“I uhm…”

“Spit it out already.”

Before Ben could do as he was told a car honked on the road right next to them. Both of them turned to the sound to see a bright red car, its owner hanging out of the window and waving at them with a big grin on his face. It was Troy, because Troy was coming to pick him up for their trip to London. Where they were going to find Scott. They hadn’t really planned yet what they were going to do once they found him, but they had a whole drive to London to figure that out.

“I already have plans for this weekend.”

“Oh…”

“So, yes, I have to leave. Don’t know when I’ll be back, but probably not before tomorrow, going to London, bye.”

With an awkward wave Ben previously thought he would never do again past his puberty, he left her and climbed into the contraption that was trying to survive Troy’s horrible driving. He knew that the way he had left was lame and rude, but to be fair, she _had_ invited herself over to spend time with him without asking him first. It wasn’t his fault that he already had plans. Troy drove off before Ben got the chance to put his seatbelt on. Ben managed to hold in the swears that wanted to leave his mouth. He already did his awkward teenage wave, no need to also get reacquainted with the expansive library of swearwords he used back then. He did groan, because he just realised that by agreeing to let Troy take him to London, he had also agreed to have Troy drive. Something that should honestly be avoided at all costs. Though Ben had a surprisingly good memory most of the time, that did not always translate to making good decisions on those memories.

“You would think that one time you ended up in hospital because of a car crash would’ve caused you to drive more carefully.”

“Oi, it was ruled that that wasn’t my fault! Also, you should be thanking me for getting you out of that awkward situation.”

Ben grimaced, both because Troy had stopped watching the road to look at him for a moment and because the man was correct. “Don’t remind me.”

Normally he wasn’t one to reach for the grab handle, but as Troy lurched the car around the corner he did so anyhow. He needed to find a way to swap with Troy and be the one to drive instead or someone was going to die. The way to London was a long one and Ben wasn’t going to rule out an accident happening on the way or murder. It would be Ben killing Troy in self defence because the man was about to cause an accident. He quickly looked around the car to see if there was anything that could help him. The dashboard told him they would have to fill up the tank sometime before they reached London. Ben just needed to think of a way to convince Troy to let him take the wheel after filling up the tank and survive till they reached the petrol station. 

“Turn left here, they’re doing roadwork on Willow Lane.”

“Thanks. Did you get everything? We’re still close enough to turn around if you forgot something.” Ben went through his mental checklist. Binoculars? Check. Map of London? Check. Extra set of clothes? Check. Pair of scissors to cut holes in newspapers for spying reasons? Check. Wallet? Check. Toiletries? Check. ID? Check. Common sense? No, but if he had that he wouldn’t be here.

“Yeah, I got everything.” Troy had been staying with his mother and would continue to Middlesbrough after their stop in London (Ben going back to Causton by train), so Ben had been in charge of extra gear.

* * *

Gavin was a little miffed. During a stop for petrol, Jones had offered to drive the next bit. His reasoning had seemed very genuine at the time, but Gavin had learnt the true reason for the switch now. Jones had refused to switch back, making Gavin realise that he just really didn’t want Gavin to drive. He knew he wasn’t the smoothest driver, but Jones was being a bit overly dramatic. Not that Gavin started a conversation on this truth, that would mean he had to admit that Jones had fooled him and he wasn’t going to give the man that. Not much else happened during the drive to London, apart from the decision that they would take Scott to a pub once they had introduced themselves to him.

At the moment they were parked down the street from Scott’s apartment. Gavin had worried a little that people would find two men sitting in a stationary car odd, but then he remembered that this was a city and no one cared. If Scott had to work today, then he should have left his apartment by now. Neither of them wanted to get up so early that they would’ve been able to make it before Scott would’ve left for work. Jones was looking at the window which they believed to be part of Scott’s apartment. Gavin may have dug up some blueprints of the building. Both he and Jones completely ignored that their investigation might be getting way out of hand (as if breaking into Cully and Simon’s place was not part of the problem).

“Seems like there really is no one home, so no confirmation on if this is really his place.”

“It is the return address on the gift. Let me have a look.” Jones handed him the binoculars. He had shown Gavin a picture of Scott that he had lifted from the personnel file during their stop at that petrol station. Gavin looked and quickly had to agree that there was nothing to see. The fact that the blinds were drawn didn’t really help. As if the mere thought of the blinds alerted some cosmic power, said blinds started to move. Gavin quickly informed Jones of this change and focused on finding the source of it. Which didn’t take particularly long.

The binoculars first hit Gavin’s knees (rather painfully, but he barely noticed) before reaching the floor of the car. He would later argue that dropping the binoculars was a totally reasonable response to what he had just been faced with.

“What was that for? Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.” Jones sounded kind of worried, or Gavin was just interpreting it that way because Jones should be worried. Gavin wasn’t really in the right state of mind to make good observations about someone else’s mood at the moment.

“Not a ghost, but a demon for sure.”

“I saw something, but didn’t see any details because you had the binoculars.” Jones leant forwards to retrieve the binoculars. Because of this, his voice was a little muffled as he continued to talk. Had Gavin been clearer of mind, he would have realised what their positions could be interpreted as by someone looking at them right at that moment, but as he wasn’t he was saved from feeling extremely awkward.

“However, what I did see looked more like a cat than a demon.”

“I swear to you, it was not just a cat. That thing is going to haunt me in my dreams.” By now Jones had retrieved the binoculars and was looking through them at the window.

“Whatever it was, it’s gone now. We still have seen no trace of Scott.”

“Shall we go check out the station next?”

“Yeah… but lets take public transit. I might’ve spent very little time in big cities, but I still know that finding a parking space is hell.”


	3. Chapter 3

Dan felt justifiably paranoid. He was pretty sure two men had been following him around. It had been almost noon when he first spotted them and since then he had seen them several times throughout the day. The duo probably wouldn’t have caught his attention if one of them didn’t look oddly familiar to him. He couldn’t place where exactly he had seen the man before, but he hoped he wasn’t familiar because he had been following him for a while. Chills ran down Dan’s spine thinking about the implications of having a stalker. As a detective he had seen what stalker situations could lead to and he really wasn’t interested in going through the experience himself. Having a job that was all about solving and uncovering crimes and mysteries didn’t mean he wanted them when he was off the clock. His first attempts at counter surveillance hadn’t given him much to go on; all he knew was that the two men bickered a lot. Because he wasn’t going to just let the two men continue to stalk him, he used his knowledge of the streets to lose his tails.

This lead to the situation he was currently in. After he had lost the two men he had headed to his apartment. On his way, about a block from the entrance to his complex, he had noticed that he was walking behind them. As they couldn’t have followed Dan all the way home, they must already have known where he lived. Dan concluded that this was not a good thing. Using the advantage that he now had he sneaked up behind them to listen in on their conversation. He didn’t get much intel, beside confirmation that they were indeed following someone (Dan assumed that they meant him) and that they knew where he lived, before the two started arguing about pubs. Dan raised his eyes to the sky and decided there was only one course of action left for him, he had to face the problem head on. 

* * *

Things hadn’t gone as planned. Not that Dan really knew what was going to happen when he confronted his two stalkers, but sitting in the corner of a pub with a beer in his hand had definitely not been it. They had promised that they would explain and a pub was a public place so they couldn’t try something too obviously criminal. The fact that they had offered to pay sweetened the deal, though Dan was not going to leave his drink unattended. Better not to test fate. At the very least he knew their names now, Ben Jones and Gavin Troy; not that this explained much about the situation and, as long as they didn’t show him their IDs, Dan couldn’t even be sure if those were their real names.

“Now, are you two going to explain what this is about? Also, could you show me some ID? It seems you two know who I am, but you could be lying about your names so I basically still don’t know anything.” The partners in crime smiled ominously (in Dan’s opinion) and reached in their pockets.

“I was what you were, before you left, and he is what you once were now,” said the one who identified himself as Gavin Troy. These words did not make Dan any more comfortable with the situation. Dan took the two IDs that were offered to him and inspected them. The two IDs identified the men in front of him as DI Gavin Troy of Middlesbrough CID and DS Ben Jones of Causton CID. He now realised by Jones had looked vaguely familiar. He was pretty sure the man had been a PC when Scott had worked in Midsomer. Slowly he raised his eyes from the IDs to the grinning men in front of him.

“You two came here to stalk-”

“Overly enthusiastically find you with less than legal means.” Jones rolled his eyes at Troy’s words, Dan imagined that Troy had refused to call it stalking in previous conversations (which could explain some of the arguing Dan saw them do).

“Whatever. You did this all because the three of us have all been or are,” he nodded at Jones, “Detective Sergeants at the Causton CID.”  
“Yeah, we all served under DCI Barnaby, it creates a connection,” added Jones.

They were insane. 

“You are insane.”

“Well, you weren’t there at Cully’s wedding, so we were left no choice.” Instead of arguing about this logic, Troy nodded along as Jones spoke and decided to add to the man’s train of thought.

“Why weren’t you there?”

“Half the station got the flu and I was called in to compensate. But don’t distract me from the main point. Why would my absence give you no choice but to take time out of your day to track me down and drag me to a pub?” Jones looked at him as if Dan was slow on the uptake.

“Because we got drunk together and it was wrong that the DS between us wasn’t there, so now we’re getting drunk with the three of us.” Jones and Troy raised their glasses with devilish grins adorning their faces. Dan looked at his own drink. Half of him fought to drown it all in one go and just let the evening happen to him, the other half was fighting for him to walk away and go home to cuddle on the sofa with his cat Oliver like he did most nights. Well, halves was not actually correct because there was also a part of him fighting something else. This part was fighting the warm feeling he got because two virtual strangers had gone through (probably) quite some trouble to find him just to hang out with him, but Dan denied that this part of him existed.

* * *

Dan swallowed the chip he had been eating before speaking.

“So, let me get this clear. You-” he pointed at Troy “-broke into Cully and Simon’s house while you-” he pointed at Jones “viewed my personnel files?” They hadn’t gotten drunk as had been suggested earlier, instead they had gotten themselves food. It was very different from the microwave dinner that had been waiting for Dan in his fridge. Probably a lot better, though not healthier. Once the two had confirmed Dan’s summary by (almost) synchronised nodding, Dan continued.

“Couldn’t you just have asked? Cully knows where I live.” 

“I did tell you we got drunk when we got the idea.”

“Yet you didn’t change your plans when you were sober.” 

“It worked, so what’s the problem?”

“Also, the Barnabys are to not know about this,” added Troy.

“And why exactly are they not allowed to know about this?”

“For the third time, we were drunk. We didn’t think of those details. To be completely honest, we came up with the pub part on the way here because we hadn’t thought of what we were going to do once we found you.” Dan put his face in his hands and sighed heavily. They weren’t just insane, they were also dumb. If it wasn’t bad enough yet, Troy decided to open his mouth to add to the general shortsightedness of their plan.

“We have yet to find a place to sleep too. Did remember to take overnight bags with us, though.”

“Truly Midsomer’s finest, you two.” Jones smiled sheepishly while Troy’s smile did not indicate if he got the sarcasm or was proud of his tomfoolery. With another sigh, Dan decided to throw the two a lifeline. They were paying for everything so he could help them a little, he supposed.

“I have a sofa and a rug, you two can fight about who sleeps where.” 

* * *

The plates with food had disappeared from the table, replaced by empty bottles. This was a clear indicator that they had gotten back on the original plan of getting drunk together.

“You were both born and raised in Midsomer? No wonder you’re weird.” Midsomer was on the top of Dan’s list of weird places. This list only contained two locations, but that didn’t make Midsomer any less weird. Apart from the Barnabys, he had no regrets about his transfer back to London.

“Oi!”

“I was born in Wales!” The two seemed to have very different priorities about what was wrong about that sentence.

“But yes, we went to school together.”

“Most of the time, he switched schools occasionally and he was also a couple of years below me.” Troy pointed at Jones as he said this. Dan had not expected them to have gone to the same school. They may have grown up in the same county, but Midsomer wasn’t so small that there was only one secondary school, right? He hadn’t really taken the time to investigate schools while he worked there. He had no reason to. Also, he hadn’t known they were so close to one another age wise. He had been more occupied with the realisation as to what connected him with the two when he looked at their IDs than checking their birthdays.

“Didn’t really hang out together though. Age gap and all that. Did tutor him once. Remembered him because he was weird.” Dan did not know what was considered strange in Midsomer. People that would’ve been considered completely bonkers in London were the norm there, so to stand out you had to be particularly abnormal. Dan didn’t feel drunk enough to ask what set Jones apart.

“I guess. You barely made it onto my radar. Probably would’ve forgotten who you were if we hadn’t continued to bump into one another.”

“Pretty sure you did forget who I was.”

“As I said before, I said ‘nice to meet you’ because we hadn’t met as opposing team members before.” The looks the two were shooting at each other and the ridiculousness of the premise made Dan almost choke on his drink. These two really were better entertainment than any soap opera Dan would’ve probably watched this evening had it not been interrupted (Dan turned it on because Oliver enjoyed the show, not because he was into it, how dare you think such a thing).

“So, you only started to hang out together when you both had joined the force?” Dan had come to the conclusion that Jones had been a PC during Troy’s time as well when he had still been sober enough to make connections like that.

“Nah, I still thought he was weird. Wasn’t all that comfortable with that back then.”

“Congratulations on the character growth.”

“Awww, thanks Scott!” That had been sarcastic, but Dan was starting to suspect Troy didn’t get sarcasm after the amount of alcohol he had consumed. Troy’s capability to understand sarcasm while sober was something that Dan didn’t have enough data on.

“You only came to me for that sweet sweet gossip. To be fair, you were a bit of an arse. Though, you weren’t as bad as some of the people you hung out with.” Dan could feel in his bones that there was more behind those words. His experience as a detective had given him a sixth sense for hidden backstories. Perhaps if he continued to listen and asked the right questions he could find out. It would be nice to be snoopy without the pressure of solving crimes and bringing criminals to justice behind it. For a moment he understood why Jones and Troy hadn’t been sensible and just asked Cully for his contact information. The fun of the chase without the depressing real life imperfections of society. Dan shook his head to get rid of the train of thought. He didn’t need to go down melodramatic thinking paths or feel sympathetic for Jones and Troy’s dumbassery. Never would he admit to seeing even a smidgen of sense in their actions. He focused on the conversation that had continued while he had been distracted by his own mind.

“I still don’t particularly understand how that feud between you and Rowntree started. The few times I spoke to him he called you a boring, stuck-up, goody-two-shoes. That just really confused me because boring would be the last word to describe you. In school there was always some gossip on what you had or hadn’t done. You were also, supposedly, a bad luck charm.” Okay, some clue on what would be considered weird in Midsomer, but he did have another piece of backstory to sniff out.

“Who’s Rowntree?”

“A different PC. We were talking about colleagues? Weren’t you listening?”

“No, I zoned out for a moment.”

“Appreciate the honesty. Anyhow, you wouldn’t have met him. He resigned from the force long before you turned up.”

“You really did win that feud. Still can’t believe he had an affair with a brothel madam.” Dan did choke on his drink then. Troy sympathetically patted his back throughout the following coughing fit.

“Now that’s a story I want to hear more about.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, I had a case of the executive dysfunction

Ben was woken slowly, but not gently, by a headache and the taste of his terrible bad breath. As he woke up a little more, he noticed his back was also hurting. It took a couple of moments of squinting at an unfamiliar white ceiling before he remembered how he had gotten into this situation: going out with Troy and Scott. Getting drunk for the second time in a pretty short amount of time reminded him that he was no longer in his twenties. They hadn’t gotten as drunk last night as he and Troy had gotten at the wedding, but still drunk enough for Ben to use mouthwash instead of toothpaste when brushing his teeth. It had not helped with the hangover breath as drunk him had hoped. He also remembered winning the sofa to sleep on, so his back was probably not as bad as Troy’s. Thinking of Troy, Ben stopped studying the IKEA lamp above him to turn on his side and look down at the floor besides the sofa. Apparently Troy was already awake. His face was contorted in the same look of horror that it had in the car while they were staking out Scott’s apartment. They had been proven correct about the window last night. Scott had seemed somewhat disturbed when he learnt that Gavin had gotten his hands on the blueprints of his apartment building (honestly quite reasonable), but less disturbed than when he learnt about them getting into his personnel files and breaking into Cully and Simon’s home. Perhaps he had gotten accustomed to it or he had, like Ben, decided to just turn off the part of his brain that had common sense. Troy hadn’t gone completely white again though, instead he looked a little green. Ben reasoned that that might be because of the hangover and not the grey ball of fluff on his chest. His mind was still on slow mode, so as he had been studying Troy, it hadn’t really registered the cat. Scott had told them about the cat before they entered the apartment last night, telling them that if either of them had a cat allergy that that was their problem, not his (this was when Troy informed them that Barnaby actually had a cat allergy, information Jones filed away for later).

“I told you it was going to haunt me in my dreams.” It seemed that Troy had stopped staring at the cat to see that Ben was also awake.

“It’s just a cat, Troy.” Ben should not have spoken so soon. He should not have spoken at all, because the sound of his voice caused the creature to turn his head around. Ben went completely still as he started a staring contest with the nightmare fuel that inhabited Scott’s apartment. The grasp that sleep and hangover previously still had on him and had slowed his mind disappeared immediately as the two locked eyes. Its long, plentiful fur was striped in different shades of grey and standing up in all directions, making it look as if it were last groomed fifty years ago. Its eyes were bright yellowy-orange and shaped into a permanent frown because of its wild fur and they were situated in a flat face. It was also missing a piece of its ear. Unlike Troy, Ben was not brave enough to stop looking at its head to see what the rest of its body looked like, but he imagined it was similarly horrible. The horrifying image was not aided by the fact that the monster was very big. Ben had first thought that it just looked big because of its fur, but that was not where all of its apparent size came from. Most came from the fact that it had a big body to go with the crazy amount of fur. Ben barely dared to blink, feeling that if he took his eyes off the abomination for even the smallest of moments, it would end his life. He wasn’t a religious man, but he might just have encountered evidence for the existence of hell.

* * *

Only after Dan had gotten a painkiller with a glass of water and freshened himself up a little did he decide to check up on his houseguests. They were both still where Dan had left them last night, but they were also both awake. Neither of them had moved, seemingly too occupied with staring at Oliver. Oliver was a curious cat, so Dan wasn’t surprised that the furball had decided to investigate the two strangers. He also wasn’t shy, which explained why he had been so bold as to sit on Troy’s chest.

The looks on Troy and Jones’ faces weren’t completely unexpected either. Before Dan had been introduced to Oliver at the shelter, he had been warned of his features. When Dan had first laid eyes upon him he hadn’t quite understood what people were so dramatic about. Oliver was a bit rough around the edges, but he wasn’t some monstrosity as most people seemed to think. The two men in his living room were obviously in agreement with the monstrosity label. Dan sighed and walked into the living room to remove Oliver from Troy’s chest. He noticed that Oliver’s fur was a little wilder than normal, but that was to be expected. Though Oliver had not allowed Dan to fall asleep before he had filled his bowl with food, he hadn’t gone and brush him like he usually did after work. As Dan didn’t have to get into work this morning he would have time to do so now.

“He isn’t dangerous, right bubby? Right?” Oliver melted into Dan’s hold, how could anyone be scared of such a softy? It was a mystery to Dan, a mystery his detective skills couldn’t solve.

“He’s going to kill us all.” Troy sounded slightly winded, which was perhaps the one thing Dan could be sympathetic about. Oliver meant no one any harm, but he was just a cat and didn’t understand how his weight could compress someone’s chest cavity. Jones had been nodding along with Troy, making Dan sigh again.

“Drama queens, the two of you. You would think growing up in Midsomer with its horrors would give you a backbone.” 

“What horrors?” Jones looked quite confused as he said this. He had gotten off the sofa by now, but had obviously made no plans as to what to do next and just stood in Dan’s living room. Troy had remained silent and actually managed to look thoughtful. Dan hadn’t been sure if either Jones or Troy had the capacity to be thoughtful (though they had to have some intelligence to make DI and DS, but Dan opted to ignore that), but Troy just proved he could at least look like he did.

“I did tell you about the reactions I get when I tell my coworkers about my past cases.” Though Dan had not been present for this conversation, he knew exactly what Troy meant. Dan had avoided talking too much about his Midsomer cases and made sure to never ever talk about Midsomer Mere. He knew it really happened, but he didn’t need his colleagues to think he had a few screws loose.

“Working outside of Midsomer gives you some perspective, I guess. No one quite murders like in Midsomer.” 

“How are there still people living there?”

“Magic?” Dan tried to convey to Jones how stupid he thought that suggestion was with only a look. Even though Dan had met people who could see the future, he was not going to entertain the thought that magic was real for even a moment.

* * *

Gavin was sitting opposite to Scott at the small breakfast table. Jones had offered to make breakfast, and, interestingly enough, Scott had accepted the offer. Gavin had soon learnt what Scott was using this non-cooking time for, and he wasn’t very happy with it. The man might have saved him from the hellspawn of a cat, but had then decided to brush the creature at the breakfast table. If it hadn’t been for the cat, Gavin would have given his and Jones’ little project a 100% success rating. At least the man didn’t seem to be completely out of his mind as he did put a litter bin next to him to dispose the hairs in. It would’ve been an act of pure evil to just let those fly around freely at the breakfast table.

“Can you make him stop?” Gavin looked up at Jones who had temporarily stopped preparing breakfast to address Scott.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“He’s staring at me.” Jones pointed at the cat (Oliver apparently, a name that felt too normal to belong to a beast like that) with his spatula for emphasis.

“He’s almost blind. Stop making this personal, he’s just watching you because you’re moving.” Gavin had noticed that Oliver had been watching Jones. He’d had no problem with this, because it meant that the creature wasn’t watching him. Jones turned back to his work, probably unsatisfied, but it would’ve been rude to continue complaining. Something close to a silence fell as Jones cooked and Scott brushed. Those two activities were the reason why it wasn’t a complete silence, because cooking always makes some noise and the brushing was making Oliver purr. Even though one of those in the room had climbed out of the deepest pits of hell, Gavin didn’t find the silence uncomfortable. Looking at Jones and Scott, they didn’t seem too uncomfortable with it either. It was actually quite nice.

“You guys are lucky that I don’t have to go in for work this morning,” said Scott after a little while.

“You sure it was luck? Perhaps we found your schedule during our snooping.” The point of the sentence was to make Scott uncomfortable, but it seemed Gavin’s attempt had failed as Scott’s rebuttal came without any sort of pause.

“Of course, just like you knew where you were going to spend the night.” Gavin pouted at his words, while Jones’ wheezing laughter indicated he had found it quite funny. Again Gavin noticed how easygoing the atmosphere was between the three of them. Which was surprising considering they barely knew one another (Gavin wasn’t ashamed to admit to himself that even though he had known Jones for a very long time, he hadn’t known what the man was like on a personal basis at all).

“We should do this again sometime.” Gavin hadn’t really planned on saying this, or thought it before the words left his mouth, but he agreed with it wholly.

“Perhaps not the same thing, but this was fun. We should stay in contact.” He looked at the other two to estimate what they thought about it. Dan looked mostly surprised, but Ben looked like he was contemplating the idea. Gavin had decided to start referring to them by their first names. If he wanted to convince them to become friends, he should probably start with thinking of them in a more friend-like way and friends didn’t tend to call each other by their surnames. The silence stretched and slowly started to become awkward. Gavin was about to speak up, about what he didn’t know, when Ben broke the silence.

“We could be the Midsomer Sargeants Support Society.”

“That’s a mouthful.” Ben’s interest caused Gavin’s enthusiasm to kick in. Dan’s sense couldn’t stop it.

“And a brilliant name. We also should not tell the Barnabys!”

“You’re still on that?”

“You have to admit it makes it more fun, Scott.”

“So, what? We’re going to add Secret to the group name?” Dan didn’t sound very enthusiastic yet, but he was starting to get the point. That or he was being sarcastic, but, as that wouldn’t help Gavin’s mission, he ignored that possibility.

“We could shorten it to M4S.” Gavin raised his hand to give Ben a high five; the man really was on a roll. Dan made a noise that sounded kind of painful, perhaps Oliver had shown his true colours to him and had clawed at his leg. Far more likely than Dan vocalising emotional pain, because Dan not being on 100% on board was an unwanted thought. 

“While we’re at it, how many of Troy’s predecessors are we going to add?” Ben and Gavin shared a grimace at that.

“You can call me Gavin, both of you, and the guy before me disappeared without a trace.” Ben shrugged a little helplessly.

“Gavin is probably the best starting point.”

“For some reason, that sounds ominous.” Gavin had no clue what Dan was on about, but he decided to ignore it. Just as he ignored the fact that Dan looked kind of defeated as he rested his head in his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it for now. I have plenty ideas of how to move forewards with the series and have even written a draft for ch1, but I currently don't have the writing energy. Therefore, I have no clue when I will be posting again.


End file.
